


A Taste So Sweet

by TheSightlessSniper



Category: The Picture of Dorian Gray - Oscar Wilde
Genre: Dark, He's definitely corrupting Dorian, In a twisted kind of way, Kind of a crossover with Kuroshitsuji, Lord Henry is definitely a demon, M/M, Shameless Smut, Smut, romantic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-02
Updated: 2020-09-02
Packaged: 2021-03-06 16:27:37
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 500
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26241904
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheSightlessSniper/pseuds/TheSightlessSniper
Summary: How many times had he and Dorian played this little game? He was losing count.
Relationships: Dorian Gray/Henry Wotton
Comments: 4
Kudos: 25





	A Taste So Sweet

**Author's Note:**

> According to Scrivener, this worked out to exactly 500 words. Yay me!
> 
> This is kind of an addition to my previous fic, although it can definitely be read as a standalone piece.

He’d taste sweet.

How many times had he and Dorian played this little game? He was losing count. It was so commonplace now, the memories were blending with each other. Henry pushed a hand against his back, forced Dorian’s body down against the mattress. He was slick with sweat, whimpering like a bitch in heat, pushing back onto his thrusts even amidst the cries for him to stop. It wasn’t a withdrawal of consent; it was him begging him to stop for a moment, to pull him back from the edge of orgasm.

He always denied him. Dorian didn’t really want him to stop. He just didn’t want to come yet.

As if on cue, Dorian babbled, moaned into the sheets, spilled everything he had onto them. The mere fact Henry could make him come like this, without a single touch to his cock and thrusting ever deeper into him in rough, arhythmic strokes, spurred him on, made him fuck him faster and harder, the hand on his back drifting further up to grab a fistful of hair and pull and delight in the pained-pleasured whine Dorian let out while he did so.

Dorian gasped, lifted his head as his hair was pulled, shook like a leaf. ‘Harry, Harry—God, fuck me harder! Fuck me like an animal!’

‘You want me to fuck you like an animal? I believe we’re—‘ he moaned as Dorian clenched around him— ‘Ah!—I believe we’re already rutting like dogs.’

A laugh. Dorian clenched again, shook around his prick. Another round of seed shot out onto the bed, replenishing the pile that had soaked into the sheets. ‘Then show the dogs how to do it right!’

When they were done, when Henry was sated and had filled Dorian with his own seed and had watched it trickle down his quivering thighs, he lay next to him as Dorian slept, staring across at him with a smirk. Each tryst made it easier, each round of forbidden congress in the safety of his bedchamber, or bent over a desk in his study, or in front of the fire atop the rug that had been brought back with him from India that the servants would be forced to scrub the stains out of. Every time he fucked Dorian, it made him easier to corrupt, only added to the poison the portrait took in.

One day, Dorian would come the portrait and find it too ugly to look at, and that would be the moment he would appear. Dorian would decay in an instant, and his soul would leave his body, fill the air with a cloud of ethereal mist. And he would consume it, taste it on his palate, draw indescribable pleasure from its dark syrupy, venomous sweetness, orgasm from a mere lick.

Henry chuckled, his eyes flickering to glowing, slit-pupilled ones for a moment before he let his eyelids fall over and conceal them once more. _One day, Dorian. One day. And you’ll taste so fucking sweet_.

**Author's Note:**

> Hope you enjoyed the small quantity of smuttiness!


End file.
